Tuesday, October 28, 2014


The very first Christmas that my husband and were dating still remains the singular time that we’ve done our holiday shopping separately. I remember it specifically because my mother was terminally ill and she personally chose a yellow cable knit sweater for him. It was December of 1986.

There were a number of 'lasts' for us that Christmas. All these year later, him buying any sort of clothing for me is still firmly planted on that list. It’s not that I wasn't appreciative of his efforts in '86 but what he’d purchased were downright gaudy. By that, I mean they had definite Hallowe’en costume potential and it was Christmas!

Joking aside, I should share that we’ve always shopped together. As an example, when I've needed something specific, he's enthusiastically participated by holding up the items he likes... Only to have me scrunch up my nose, making a face, and shaking my head in disagreement. Which is my personal code for... are you freaking sniffing glue? 

Flash forward to the summer of 2014. We were shopping for my daughter before she left to move West and I came across this really neat pair of swim shorts for him. I held them up for his approval and he gave me a little of my own medicine. He made a face and shook his head. He HATED them. So, like any good wife, I bought them anyway.

When we got home, I showed them to him. He was miffed, so I said “I’m the one that has to look at you in them and I think they'll look good... So how be you only wear them when it's just you and me at the cottage?” 

He wouldn't budge, so (even though they were just very colourful swim shorts) I had to go with... I think you’ll look really sexy in them. After a bit of coaxing, he agreed to wear them for l'il ole me.

Well, that specific style of bargaining brings me to last Saturday.

Who'd a thunk it?
TAKEN: OCTOBER 28th, 2014
With our trip happening in the next minute and a half, I wanted to buy a couple of new swimsuits. We looked in every store in town, saving my very favourite store for last. 

As we looked through the racks at Bliss Boutique together he held up a suit that he really liked. It was nothing like anything I’d ever worn before, so I gave him my standard look of NOT A CHANCE IN HELL. He carefully moved into my personal space.

Looking me straight in the eye and inches from my face he asked, “do I have to come back tomorrow and buy it ?”

“Rhondi, I’m the only one that wants to see you in it” he mockingly said. "I'll only expect you to wear it twice while we’re away...!”

So I bought it. I bought it without trying it on. When we got home he asked me to model it. I tried it on and it looked FAB ~ I was a little shocked. I couldn't see it but he could. I can't believe how much my treadmill has slimmed me down. I'm still amazed.

Will I let him start picking out my clothes now? HELL NO... Getting lucky once in twenty eight years on the fashion front does not a fashion maven make!

Besides, I still haven't told him yet that he was right about the bathing suit.

Why would I want to rush two twenty eight year milestones in one week?!?!